


Like Sylvilagus Floridanus

by Astarloa



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Incest, M/M, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 13:52:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5499479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astarloa/pseuds/Astarloa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On what he thinks is his deathbed, John confesses that he’s not Sam’s biological father. And then wishes he hadn’t. Set sometime in the second half of season one.</p>
<p>For Tdorian.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Sylvilagus Floridanus

Dean sat on a hard plastic chair, listening to the steady beep of a heart monitor next to his father’s bed. John's face looked sallow in the harsh fluorescent light, creases thrown into sharp relief. 

John shifted restlessly. He sighed, ignoring the stabbing pain in his chest, and turned his head towards Dean. “There’s something I need to tell you. About your brother.”

Dean frowned and leaned forward. “Sam? What about him?”

John hesitated, trying to postpone the inevitable just a little bit longer. Dean would be devastated. 

“Dad?”

“But you can’t tell anyone,” John said firmly. “Especially Sam.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed. “Tell him what, exactly?” 

“I’m not his biological father,” John said in a rush. The words left a vacuum of silence in their wake. John forced himself to relax and waited for the fall out he was sure would follow.

“Awesome,” Dean said finally, a wide grin breaking out across his face. 

John blinked. “What?” 

“For a moment I thought you were gonna say something awful, like Sam was infected with demon blood or whatever.“ Dean slapped his hands down against jean-covered thighs and stood up, walking with quick steps over to the door. “Hey Sammy!” he yelled. “Get in here. Dad’s got some good news for once.”

“Dean!” John hissed. He pushed up onto his elbows, fighting a loosing battle against the tangled sheets. “Come back here. And keep your mouth shut. That’s an order!”

For once in his life, Dean ignored him. 

“What is it?” Sam said anxiously, appearing in the doorway. 

“Dad’s not your real father.”

“Dean!” John screeched.

Sam gave Dean a sceptical look. “Have you been watching Star Wars again?”

“No! Okay, yes, but totally not the point. Dude, seriously. He just told me.” 

“Seriously?” Sam repeated. He remained frozen in place for a second, before letting out a loud woop of laughter. He threw his arms around Dean, twirling them around in a misshapen circle.

“You know what this means, right?” Dean said. “We’re off the F.B.I.’s Most Wanted Consensual Incestuous Sex Offenders list.”

Sam’s smile faded slightly. “They’re still after us for all the unexplained deaths, though.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Jeez, can’t you focus on the positives for once?”

“Sorry,” Sam said. He looked over at John and winced. He tugged insistently on the sleeve of Dean’s shirt. “Hey, Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Is Dad – um, John - supposed to look that red?”

Dean eyed his father warily, taking in his flushed face. “Maybe?” 

“Incestuous?” John spluttered. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, before collapsing back against the bed with a moan. “What?” 

Dean scratched the back of his neck. “Well, when two people love each other very much, like Sam and me - ”

“They fuck,” Sam interrupted. “All the time. Everywhere.”

Dean nodded. “Like rabbits.” He thought for a moment, and then added, “Deadly, serial killer bunnies, not the fluffy kind. Although it might explain Sam’s hair, and his obsession with salad…” 

“Dean, focus!” Sam said, a too sharp elbow colliding with Dean’s ribs.

“Dude.” Dean raised an eyebrow. “You gotta admit - that carrot thing you’ve got going on is kind of freaky.”

Sam scowled. “One time! It was one time! And you were the one who insisted on googling vegetable porn.”

“Oh, c’mon. You loved it,” Dean said.

“What? Vegetable…what?” John felt his stomach twist sideways and whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut. “Oh god, they got me. The demons got me and dragged me to Hell. I’m in Hell!”

Dean turned to Sam and circled one finger against his temple. “I think it’s the medication. They probably have him on some pretty heavy shit.”

“It’s not the goddamn medication!” John yelled. “It’s the you and the him and the sex and the, oh my god. Everywhere? Everywhere?!”

“Yup,” Dean said. He snickered. “Remember that time your bed had a wet patch? And we told you it must be from a leak in the ceiling?”

John nodded, hands clutching desperately at the bed covers and drawing them up over his mouth. 

“Not so much,” Dean said. 

Sam snorted. “I still can’t believe you fell for it. We were in New Mexico for Christ’s sake. It hadn’t rained in months!”

“Well, not those kind of showers,” Dean added with a wink. 

“What?” John said, voice muffled by the bed covers. “Not those kind of…what?” 

Sam looked slightly embarrassed. “Uh, never mind. But you know that weird stain on your flannel shirt - ”

He was interrupted by a knock at the door.

They looked over to see a doctor entering the room, medical chart in hand.

“Good news, Mr Winchester. Your EKG came back clear. It appears you’re suffering from nothing more than a severe case of dyspepsia. Painful, no doubt, but certainly not fatal."

“What?”

“Indigestion, Mr Winchester. Gas. Pick up some antacid, cut down on the chilli, and you should be fine.”

“I’m not dying?” John asked, eyes wild. 

“Nope,” the doctor said cheerfully. “Your cholesterol’s a bit high, but that can be put to rights easily enough. You’ll have to modify your diet, of course, start incorporating more vegetables and –“

“Carrots!” Dean exclaimed. 

The doctor blinked. “Well, yes,” he said slowly. “I suppose increasing your intake of carrots _might_ do the trick. Of course, balance and variety is the key to making a sustainable life-style change. I’d suggest trying some other fruit and vegetables as well.”

“Cucumbers?” Sam suggested. The corner of his mouth twitched into a sly smile. “Bananas? How about squash?

“Dude,” Dean said, impressed. He cast a speculative glance at Sam. “You think?”

Without warning, John’s hand shot out and wrapped itself around the doctor’s arm in a vice-like grip, dragging him closer. The doctor let out a startled yelp, arms flailing, and tried to brace himself against the metal bed railing. 

“Kill me,” John demanded in a low growl. “Accidental overdose, smothering me with a pillow, inexplicable bathroom fall. I don’t care. But if you have an ounce of compassion you’ll put me out of my misery. Hell can’t be any worse than this.”

After a brief tussle, the doctor succeeded in wrenching himself free and scurried backwards. He attempted a polite smile that immediately wilted around the edges. “I’ll have them send up a psych consult,” he said. “This case is obviously more, uh, complex than we initially thought.”

And with that he backed out of the room, closing the door with a decisive click.

Dean looked at Sam.

Sam looked at John.

John shut his eyes and started rocking back and forth. “Just a dream,” he muttered to himself. “It’s just a dream. Everything’s fine, Winchester. Snap out of it.” 

He took a few deep breaths, and then cautiously opened one eye. 

“Hey,” Dean said, and waved a hand in John’s direction. In retrospect, he probably should have unlaced his fingers from Sam’s first. 

John made a noise perilously close to a sob and started chanting. 

_“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus lepus, omnis satanica vegetabile, omnis incursio  profanum desideravit fructum…”_ *

Dean cleared his throat. “Well, this is awkward.” He looked to Sam for inspiration, giving it up as a lost cause when Sam simply shrugged, and then back at John. “So, Dad. What about those demons, huh?”

 

* We exorcise you, every impure rabbit, every satanic vegetable, every incursion of unholy desired fruit…


End file.
